


The way to a man's heart (is through his stomach)

by rebelxxwaltz



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 23:25:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelxxwaltz/pseuds/rebelxxwaltz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam cooks dinner for Gene. Gene is still hungry. Sam/Gene. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The way to a man's heart (is through his stomach)

**Author's Note:**

> This is fan fiction that happened because of Thanksgiving overindulgence, pure and simple. Frankly, I'm surprised I was able to type after the onset of food/wine coma, but there you have it! Written in about two hours, accompanied by a large dose of mint tea.

"Wot the 'ell is all this then?"  
  
"It's food."  
  
Gene cast a wary eye around the overburdened table. " _Why_?"  
  
Sam wiped his hands on a tea towel and then slung it over his shoulder, fussing nervously with the kitchen things. "…You looked hungry, that's all."  
  
"I looked _hungry_?" Gene ignored how the lean muscles in his deputy's back tensed and shifted beneath striped polyester as Sam engaged in a surprisingly inelegant struggle with the bottle of wine and corkscrew. "I'm not even sure if some of this is is _edible_." He poked at some green bits in a small bowl with a skeptical fork tine.  
  
"They're called vegetables, Guv." Tyler rolled his eyes, handing Gene a glass of red wine in a short and stemless glass. "And they _won't_ kill you." Gene stared at the presented drink, unaccountably reminded of queer French naval recruits in poncy striped jumpers.  
  
What the fuck was he doing here? Gene wasn't stupid. The wife had finally up and left him a few weeks ago, and yeah-- he hadn't been taking proper care of himself. He hadn't said a damn word about it at the station, not made so much as a sodding _peep_ , and yet Sam just seemed to _know_. And here he was, after a depressing minimum of cajoling, perched before a spread consisting of myriad multi-colored and unidentifiable foods and feeling even more lost than he did while trying to pair his socks or operate an ironing board for the first time since he'd finished National Service.  
  
Across from him, Sam slid into the mismatched chair that accompanied the slightly wobbly table in this hideously decorated flat that Tyler insisted upon keeping incongruously neat and tidy. It wasn't the type of place that should _be_ this clean… it practically cried out longingly for filth. Gene was convinced that he cluttered the room just by being in it, but he couldn't decide if that idea satisfied him or made him want to run a swift and breathless mile down the empty winter street.  
  
"This some sort of a pity-party, Tyler? 'Cos that's about the last fuckin' thing I need right now." He frowned, eyebrows knitting beneath a blond fringe that had grown slightly too long in recent days.  
  
Freezing with a slotted spoon in his outstretched hand, Sam fixed Gene with surprised honey-dark eyes. "What? No! I just… you said you prefer not to eat alone, didn't you?"  
  
A memory of curry in a rather unsavory part of town assaulted Gene's senses. "S'pose I did, yeah."  
  
"Thought you might like to try a Thai curry for a change but I wasn't sure how it would come out since I couldn't find any proper lemongrass, so I made the Beef Stroganoff too. Bit more traditional, and there's mushrooms. The spinach can go with either. Didn't know if you liked carrots, but I wanted to use them before they went off, so…"  
  
Gene's throat tickled, thick with the urge to make a joke about how Sam would make some bloke a lovely wife one day. He refrained from doing so, pushing up his pale blue shirt sleeves and nearly choking on a stubborn egg noodle as he felt Sam's foot nudging against his own beneath the table.  
  
"Shit, sorry! Blimey, your legs are long." Sam stared down at his plate, cheeks reddening.  
  
No, there were some jokes that simply hit too close to home.  
  
Half an hour later, Gene's mood had lifted significantly. He was buoyed both by the surprisingly delicious food-- there had even been a chocolate tart for dessert-- and the company. They had talked about work, mainly, but there hadn't been any serious disagreements, just the bickering and picky argumentative jibes that Gene had come to expect from his second-in-command. He leaned back in his chair, replete, too lazy with food and wine to tear his slow and contented attention away from the line of Sam's neck as he cleared the plates and crockery away from the table.  
  
"Need some help with those, Sammy-boy?"  
  
"Nah, you're alright. Just gonna toss 'em in the sink and wash up later."  
  
The two men reached for Gene's plate at the same moment, and as Gene pulled it aside Sam overbalanced and stumbled, falling against the larger man and catching one hand against Gene's solid shoulder. That simple touch reacted explosively with the pleasurable haze that was tingling through Gene's limbs, leaving him defenseless against the urge to wind an arm around Sam's trim waist and _pull_. He dragged Sam closer and Sam melted into Gene's lap, sliding into a kiss that was absolutely perfect and _filthy_ \-- and oh, yes. This, _this_ was exactly the type of disorder that had been missing from Sam's oh-so-orderly living space...  
  
Tongues battled and Gene slipped a hand into Sam's tantalizingly open shirt collar, needing to feel the heat of skin on skin as Sam's fingers wound through his hair and sent shivers racing down his spine and straight to his cock. There was an odd sort of full-body sensory overload happening as Gene dragged his lips along Sam's jugular, almost tasting the vibrations as the smaller man groaned and squirmed in his grasp.  
  
It was like science fiction or whatever-- hadn't Gene seen a stupid old film where martians could smell colors or some bollocks like that? Gene tasted chocolate and spice but he smelled leather and paper or maybe he smelled spice in the air from Sam's cooking and tasted leather from where the collar of Sam's jacket had been resting against the very same patch of skin that Gene's teeth were now exploring. Maybe leather tasted like chocolate? He didn't bloody know, and in the end he made an executive decision not to _care_. It was much simpler to heave their tangled bodies out of the chair, depositing Sam onto the nearly empty table and insinuating himself between the other man's splayed legs.  
  
Sam fumbled at the knot of Gene's tie with shaking hands, and their eyes made contact for the first time since they'd fallen into each other. They were close, so close that they were sharing breath and their lips fluttered teasingly when Gene finally spoke. "Now I see what you're on about. Tryin' to wine and dine me so you can get in my knickers?"  
  
"I didn't-- I wasn't--"  
  
Gene silenced him with a savage kiss, grinding his delightfully hard erection against Sam's similarly affected groin. They broke off on a gasp, and Gene admired his handiwork as he took in the other man's kiss-swollen lips and unfocused gaze. Smiling that wide and annoyingly infectious smile, Sam touched his fingers to Gene's cheek in an absent but tender gesture.  
  
"Alright, maybe I was. A bit." Sam bit back a choked whimper as Gene wrenched open the front of his shirt, buttons pinging in every direction. "It appears to be working…"  
  
Continuing on his determined quest to undress Sam, Gene pulled impatiently at his vest. "Might be hungry again later, mind."  
  
Sam returned the favor, struggling eagerly with Gene's belt buckle. "I can-- oh fuck that's good-- I'm sure I can whip something together."  
  
The washing up would have to wait until much, _much_ later, it seemed.  
  
 **xxxxx**

**Author's Note:**

> That's it! *Looks around nervously* Did I actually manage to write a short thing?! LET US MARK THIS DAY ONTO OUR CALENDARS.
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates it, and a joyous kickoff to the holiday season for all! :D


End file.
